The Vortex
by laughattacks24.7
Summary: FULL SUMMARY INSIDE! What happens girl finds her way into a time vortex that takes her back to the Marauders' time? Well, for one thing, Dumbledore has some kind of mission for her to complete; but soon she befriends the Marauder's. Soon, she lives two lives. But which one is meant to be? Only time will tell. Or was time the one who dragged her into this mess in the first place?
1. Chapter 1

**Extended Summary:  
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What happens when Nikki Birnes (1 year older than Harry, 1 year younger than the Weasley twins) finds her way into a time Vortex that brings her back to the Marauder's time period? Dumbledore has two different missions for Nikki and her friend, Sophie, to complete. But soon, Nikki befriends the Marauder's. Soon, she lives two lives. But... which one is meant to be? Only time will tell.

Or was time the one who dragged her into this mess in the first place, creating boundaries that set her apart from her real life and the life she wanted? No - the life she _needed_. The life she craved. The life she could never, ever have. The life that was merely meant to be a dream, that could only ever be a fantasy. But, sooner or later, dreams turn into nightmares; fantasies turn into realities; and life turns into... death.

**Please let me know what you think! If you're interested, I'll continue the story. Simple as that. :)**

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**Chapter 1**

I sighed and looked around me. Everyone in class seemed either utterly bored or disturbingly intrigued by today's Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. I couldn't care less; I hated my teacher. I shifted my gaze over to the window and stared at the open grounds of the castle, hoping for some sort of interruption from class. No such luck.

My name is Nikki Birnes, and I'm a sixth year Gryffindor at Hogwarts. I'm good friends with Sophie Vargas, a tall and fair-skinned girl from Ibiza. She has a brown-blonde pixie cut and hazel-green eyes that change color in the sun.

The two of us share what we call our "pad," as it _is_ a pretty sweet little tower located right off of the Gryffindor wing right in between the exits for the boys and the girls' dormitories. We have our own kitchen, common room, bathroom, and bedrooms; it's decorated pretty nicely, too.

Our beds each have four posts with red and gold curtains. Our bathrooms are big with pristine white tiles. It seemed all too much like a mini-spa; there are mirrors with light bulbs around them, a cabinet for all our bathroom products, a Jacuzzi, a bath, and a stand-up shower with glass doors. Of course, our pad is decorated with red and gold everywhere – the carpets, the bed sheets, the curtains, even the bathroom rug! The common room had a big red velvet couch with gold lining and a couple of red and gold 'lazy boy' chairs. The kitchen counter was made of redwood and gold granite, with a cabinet for chilled drinks. (We mostly kept sparkling apple cider in there, anyway, but there was also the occasional Bailey's or Vodka.) We have a stainless steel fridge and a lot of pantry cabinets, which were also made of redwood. There are also lots of lion portraits and some shields and armors throughout our pad.

"Anyone?" Inquired Professor Umbridge, bringing me back to reality. "No one knows the answer?"

I sighed internally. Her high-pitched voice was getting on my nerves and I did not want to give her the satisfaction of having my cooperation. "Ms. Birnes," she said, looking at me, "are you telling me you don't know what the Three Unforgivable Curses are?"

"The Imperious Curse, the Cruciactus Curse, and the Killing Curse," I said dully. _We learnt this last year, you crazy old cat lady,_ I thought to myself.

She looked taken aback. Everyone stared at me appraisingly. "Very well, then. Class dismissed."

Sophie caught up with me after class. "Nice one, Nik," she said, giving me a nod of approval.

I laughed, dismissing Sophie's comment. "I just answered a question, it's not like I actually stood up to her."

"Yeah, but you showed her that we don't really even need her teaching us… that she's useless."

I shrugged.

"OI — NIK, SOPH!" said two voices in unison.

Sophie and I looked at each other and thought, _The twins._

I smiled as I felt a pair of warm hands grab my shoulders from behind me. I turned around to face him. "Why, hello there, George."

For the first time in months, I saw my two favorite heads of fiery red hair and pairs of brown eyes. Fred and George both had very similar characteristics — okay, nearly _identical_ characteristics — but I could tell the difference between them by the way they acted and carried themselves. After a while, it became sort of like a sixth sense; I could always differentiate between the two, even when Mrs. Weasley sometimes couldn't.

"And Freddikins," I said, pinching his cheeks tortuously, "you've grown so much."

He crinkled his nose and pushed my hand away from his face. Fred pretended to glare at me. "Thanks, Aunt Muriel."

Sophie and George laughed at us. George piped in, "Ah, Freddikins, you forgot your blanky at home, shall I tell mum to send it over?"

"Oh, _would_ you, George! That would be very kind of you. I think mum would also appreciate if we sent her that toilet seat we told her we were going to blow up in our third year, we never really got around to doing it."

Fred and George looked at us and bowed. "We'll be seeing _you_ ladies later."

With that, they scurried off to the nearest bathroom.

"What a pair," Sophie said.

I couldn't help but laugh again. "Double, double, toil and trouble."

"I can't believe they're a year _older_ than us."

I shrugged and said jokingly, "Boys."

It was lunchtime, and I went back to my room to take a nap. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, there was a knock on my door.

I jumped up in excitement as I saw who it was. "Harry! Hermione! Ron!"

They all swarmed in and toppled me to the ground. "We missed you," said Hermione.

I smiled and tried to breath. "I… missed you… too."

The three of them got off of me and we all went over to the common room. "Ron, Hermione, congrats on being chosen as Prefects."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. Ron just sat there, staring at me.

"Ron, what is it?"

He shrugged. "You're the only person who isn't in shock that I'm a prefect. Everyone thought that Harry—" Ron pointed at his best friend —"would have gotten it."

"Oh, c'mon, mate," Harry said. "I know for a fact that Dumbledore always makes the right choices. Look where it's gotten me through all of this Voldemort crap."

"That's right," Hermione said. "Dumbledore sees something in you, Ron. Don't let what others may think get to you."

"I agree. Prove them _wrong_. Show them how great a prefect you can be," I said, smiling encouragingly.

Ron smiled at took a piece of cake that was sitting on the common room table. "Thanks, guys," he said, stuffing his face.

I turned my attention to Harry, who was sitting next to me on the couch. "Hey," I said, quietly, as Ron and Hermione were bickering about something, "how have you been doing, Harry?"

"I'm fine."

I looked at him. "Don't give me that. I know about Sirius, I know about the dementors, I know about Voldemort, and I know about the dreams."

Harry looked alarmed. "How?"

I sighed; I shouldn't have said that. Truth is, Dumbledore told Sophie because he wants her to watch over Harry for now. "You don't remember telling me over the summer?"

"I'm pretty sure I haven't told anyone but Dumbledore."

"I know you and Sophie have some sort of job or deal with him," Harry said, "I get that, so I'm not upset. But — just don't tell anyone."

"I would never! Just tell me, friend to friend, how you're dealing with all of this."

Harry sighed. "I dunno… sometimes it feels like I'm just peering in on what Voldemort is doing, but other times… other times it feels like I'm _doing_ what Voldemort is doing."

"Look, I know you feel unsure about this whole connection you have Voldemort, but listen to me — that doesn't change the fact that you and him are two _totally_ different people. As Dumbledore would say, 'it's not our abilities that define us; it's our choices.' While Tom Riddle chose to become the most powerful, evil wizard of our time, you chose to be in Gryffindor and rise up against him… don't you think that says something?"

Harry looked at me. "Thanks, Nikki."

"Hey, what are friends for," I said, shoving him playfully.

Hermione looked at her watch. "Oh no! If we don't get a move on right now, we're all going to be late for our next class!"

Ron rolled his eyes. A feeling of dread washed over me, as I realized: "AH! I have Snape!" I grabbed four pre-made PB&J sandwiches from the fridge and made a run for it.

"Wait, Nikki! Your potions book."

"Thanks, Ron, you're a lifesaver! I'll see you guys later!"

I sprinted down the steps, and headed towards the dungeon. It was the farthest classroom I had from the Gryffindor towers, of course it had to be the one class I was cutting it close with.

'_Where are you?'_ Sophie's voice rang in my head.

I was a little alarmed by this. Dumbledore always spoke of giving Sophie and I some sort of direct source of communication in case of emergencies; I just never pictured him giving us telepathy.

'_I'm on my way, Soph. Please stall for me.'_

I ran down the hallways, with some of the portraits yelling at me.

"Yeah, you run away, you ignorant little girl!"

"Well, well, well, what seems to be your hurry?"

"Got something you've gotta do there, lil' miss?"

I sprinted faster. I hated when portraits made the stupidest of comments that somehow still managed to intimidate me. But hey, at least it helped me get to potions class quicker.

I chomped down the rest of my sandwich and headed inside the classroom.

"…When I tell you that you will all be conjuring the Drought of the Living Dead. No partners for today. Ah, Ms. Birnes," said Snape, turning to face me, his eyes dark with resentment, "how kind of you to join us."

I felt my cheeks get warm as I took a seat next to Sophie.

'_So much for stalling,'_ I thought, frustrated.

'_Sorry! I tried my best, but you know Snape.'_

'_Unfortunately, yes.'_

Snape leered, amused. "Mind sharing something with the class, you two?"

I was puzzled. We were just using telepathy… how on earth could he know? The two of us shook our heads.

'_Him and Dumbledore have close ties, for some odd reason,'_ Sophie thought.

_Damn_, I thought (to myself)_. This is going to become annoying. Is there a way we can shut off this mind reading thing?_

'_I dunno. We're supposed to have a meeting with Dumbledore sometime later this week to talk about how we can control this new thing.'_

'_Wow, you heard that? Hm… I wonder if this is how Harry feels when he and Voldemort … well, you know.'_

'_Probably. I think it's more of a one-way thing though… Harry can only see into Voldemort, or Voldemort can only see into Harry.'_

"Okay, enough," I said to Soph, taking a deep breath. "Let's get started on potions."

"What a genius idea, Birnes," Snape said, as he passed by. "Ten points from Gryffindor. No more silly teenage girl distractions."

I was seething with anger on the inside. Why does Snape always pick on me? I've never done anything to him in my life. I guess I can't complain; Harry has it worse...

"Stupid potions teacher," I mumbled to myself as I cut up the valerian roots and crushed the sopophorous bean. I scooped both of the ingredients into my cauldron and the draught turned a deep lilac. After stirring for a couple of minutes, the potion turned a pale pink, the color it was supposed to be.

Snape was making his rounds around the classroom, searching for anyone who failed the assignment miserably. I wondered what it would be like to be in Harry's class — I hear Seamus' draughts often blow up in his face and that Neville often ends up in the Hospital Wing. Knowing Neville, he felt safer there than in the dungeon; he had an awful, awful fear of Snape.

"Well done, Warrington," Snape said to a Slytherin in my year. Dean Thomas calls him "that big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth," and I guess I can't blame him. Warrington is also the Slytherin Chaser, and is now part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

"Pucey—could use a little more stirring." Adrian Pucey was also a Slytherin Chaser in my year.

Snape started making his way towards the Gryffindors. Katie Bell and Cormac McLaggen were in my classes, and we got on pretty well. Well… McLaggen could be a prick sometimes, but I guess other times he could be decent.

Of course, Snape only made comments about Sophie's potion and mine, as picking on us was one of his favorite pastimes.

Snape clicked his tongue. "Tisk, tisk. What a shame, Vargas; not enough sopophorous."

Snape then turned his attention in my direction. He didn't speak for a while, but instead just stared at my potion. He took a sniff. "Five points from Gryffindor," he said, sharply, "you were supposed to _cut up_ the sopophorous bean, not _crush_ it. Speak with me after class."

_How on earth did Snape know that I did that? And why do I have to stay after class for actually getting a potion _right_?_

The whole class was mumbling about this too. I could hear the indignant protests of Katie and Sophie. Even Cormac was a little red in the face. "Why, just because she's a Gryffindor and she's good at potions?" someone from the back said.

Snape had a distant look in his eyes as he said, in that depressing, hollow tone of his, "Class dismissed."

"I'll meet you outside," Sophie said before she left.

I carried my _Advanced Potion Making_ book and walked up to Snape's desk."Yes, Professor?"

It felt as though Snape's dark eyes were burning holes through mine. "How did you know to crush it, Birnes?"

I shrugged and said somewhat matter-of-factly, "I just figured it would be easier, as the bean is pretty difficult to chop up."

"Give me your book."

I was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"Your potions book, Birnes. You're slower than I thought. Must I repeat it once more?"

I didn't say a word and dropped my book on his desk with a _plump_ sound. He smirked at me. "Now, _now_, watch that temper. Gryffindors…"

Snape was flipping through my book, as if he was looking for something. He seemed particularly fascinated in the first page of the book, where I wrote my name. Snape took another glance at the page with the instructions for the Drought of the Living Dead. "You bought this book just this year, correct? It's brand new?"

"Yes."

"Yes _sir._"

I laughed. "I'm a _girl_, Professor."

Snape glared at me. "Another five points off Gryffindor for disrespectfulness." He tossed the book back at me. "Dismissed."

_Is that even a word, "disrespectfulness?"_ I thought as I took the book and left the classroom.

Sophie was waiting for me outside. "What'd he do?" she asked curiously.

"Strangely, he just checked my book… he seemed to be looking for something, as if he thought I was cheating. He asked me if it was new. Maybe some people have reused other people's old books with shortcuts written in them."

"Weird."

"Tell me about it."


	2. Chapter 2

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**C****h****apter 2**

"Why do you think Dumbledore gave us this telepathy thing? And why do we get a pad? I just don't get it," Sophie said.

The two of us were in our common room, just hanging out after a long day of classes. It had already been a couple of days since we first realized our special telepathy powers before potion's class, and it wasn't an easy couple of days. Well, I'm sure you can imagine why, what with always being inside someone else's head…

I shrugged and looked out the window. Something on the brick wall caught my eye; there were two carvings just below the windowsill. The first one was in writing, and it said _"SB + JP"_ with "_'71-'78_" written under it. The other one was a drawing of a snitch, which seemed to be headed in the direction of the window, as if it was about to fly out of it.

"Hey, Soph, have you ever noticed this before?"

She examined the carvings. "This must have been a while ago…"

"Almost two decades ago. I wonder who it could be," I mused. "We better get going – we have our meeting with Dumbledore in about fifteen minutes."

Sophie and I left our pad and went to Dumbledore's office. It was a route we were already familiar with, as the two of us often had questions that only Dumbledore could answer. Since we were frequent visitors, we didn't have McGonagall chaperon us the way she needed to for other students; Professor Dumbledore gave us the password to his office.

"Lemon drops," I said to the gargoyle on the seventh floor. The gargoyle leapt aside, and the wall behind it split in two, revealing a spiral stone staircase that moved like an escalator.

There it was; the highly polished oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. I knocked on the door. "Professor?"

I heard footsteps approaching; Albus Dumbledore opened the door. "Welcome, welcome," he said, letting us in. Sophie and I never quite got used to the marvel of the large, circular room filled with all the portraits of Headmasters and Headmistresses past.

"The both of you have grown up so much." He smiled at us and motioned for us to sit down.

"Thanks, Professor," Sophie said. "But we've been thinking about, well, a couple of things."

Dumbledore smiled. "'We'? So the telepathy process has begun?"

Sophie looked taken aback. I asked, "So I take it that _this_ is the form of 'emergency communication' you gave us?"

He nodded his head slowly. "You see, as you two may have been wondering, there is a reason why the both of you have these powers. There is a reason why you get to you're your little mini-tower in the Gryffindor tower. It is about time you two find out.

"You see, you two each have specific jobs that ensure that everything that is supposed to happen in the present day runs its course. Sophie — as you may already know, your job is to watch over Harry and make sure he is all right, like a secret protector; you must _not_ tell him, of course."

Dumbledore turned to me. "Your job, Nikki, is quite different; you are going to go back in time and make sure everything runs smoothly in the past. This is so that the 'future' – or, what is really the _present_ – will work out the way it is supposed to. For example, if there is something that is supposed to be delivered to someone but you are the only one who knows about it – because you are from the future – then that is what you must do."

Dumbledore gave me a knowing smile. _I guess this is something I should remember_, I thought. "This may seem unnecessary, but I have seen how this plays out if no one oversees the past; oddly enough, it does not end well."

Sophie and I stared at Dumbledore. This was a lot to take in. "We're… _protectors_?!" Sophie asked in bewilderment. "That's what we're here for?"

Dumbledore smiled. "That, and to learn magic, of course."

"But isn't time travel illegal? I thought with the order about Time Turners, no one would be allowed to…"

"Ah, yes, well one _would_ think that, but I have found a couple of loopholes in the new order," Dumbledore said. "Also, what happens on the grounds of Hogwarts stays on the grounds of Hogwarts – most of the new Ministry orders do not pertain to us. Fudge and I have an… _understanding_."

"Wait," I said, thinking more and more about what I would have to do, "when I go back in time, how much time will I be missing of this life here? How many days here is equivalent to the days in the past? And, what do I do when I get there, do I just act as if I'm a new student at Hogwarts?!"

"Ah, very good questions… I believe twelve hours here is equivalent to two weeks in the past. As for your second question, that is exactly what you must do. Feel free to come to my office as well, I will be expecting you and will probably be able to give you further guidance."

I sighed; at least I'd have _some_ sort of guidance once I got there.

"Oh," Sophie said, remembering something, "there's another thing we've been meaning to ask you – how do we control this telepathy thing? For the past few days, we could literally hear each other's every thought."

Dumbledore laughed. "Yes, I almost forgot to mention – to this day, your telepathy has been unrestricted; from this moment on, this will not be the case. Now, I will tell you how to make it easier to control your telepathy. Firstly, in order to communicate, you have to imagine that the other is right by your side; imagine that you are talking to her. Quite predictably, in order for you guys to make your thoughts private, you have to make sure you are _not_thinking of the other person in that way that I just explained. Of course you can still _think_ of her, especially if she is a part of the thought or memory you are thinking of; you just can't think of her in a way that is really detailed or thorough. Why don't you two give it a go?"

Sophie and I looked at each other and nodded. I concentrated really hard and thought of Sophie thoroughly – remembered the little blue freckle in her hazel eyes – and thought, '_Hmph. You think Dumbledore can somewhat understand what we're thinking? He _is_ pretty good at legillimency.'_

I heard a voice reply in my head. 'May_-be. You never know with this guy. Okay, now let's try thinking to ourselves.'_

I blocked the thought of Sophie's eye-freckle out of my mind. _I wonder why Dumbledore chose _us_ though, of all people... y'know, to be protectors. I hope the time period I travel to – I mean, how far back can it be, if it's to protect this present day? – anyways, I hope it's decent there... I really don't want to be stuck with Tom Riddle or that lot. _

"Nikki? Nikki? Earth to Nikki!" Sophie said.

We laughed.

"Well," I said, "the trick really worked, Professor. Thank you."

Dumbledore looked as if he could see right through me, like an x-ray. "You two are very special young girls, and you will soon find out as to why the both of you are going to be protectors."

_Damn legillimency_, I thought, _he's goood. _

"Thank you for your time, Professor. We really appreciate how available to us you are."

"Of course, girls. Remember – I'm just a walk down the seventh floor if you ever need any guidance or have any questions."

Just as we got up to leave, there was a knock on the door and two people entered. Dumbledore said, "Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall … and … _ah_."

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a… well, a, nightmare," said Professor McGonagall. He says…"

"It wasn't a nightmare," Harry said quickly.

I looked at Harry; he looked at Sophie and I. Something didn't seem right.

"Very well, then, Potter, you tell the headmaster about it," McGonagall said, frowning slightly.

"I… well, I _was_ asleep…" Harry paused, looking distressed. I remembered my conversation with him earlier about his Voldemort-induced dreams. _Poor kid_, I thought. Harry looked at me again, as if reading my mind and remembered our conversation; he nodded his head at me as if to confirm he did.

"But it wasn't an ordinary dream…" Harry continued, taking a deep breath. "Ron's dad – Mr. Weasley – has been attacked by a giant snake."

I approached Harry from the spot I was standing. He didn't look me in straight the eye.

"Hey, remember what we talked about before, okay? I know how this is going to make you feel, Harry. But don't let it. That's what Voldemort _wants_. I want you to come talk to me if you need to, promise me you will."

He looked at me once and nodded his head.

I could also tell Dumbledore was observing us from the corner of my eye.

After a while more of talking and figuring out the logistics of this whole shenanigan – which I had already known about, because Harry had told me about his wacked out dreams – Dumbledore told McGonagall to gather all the Weasleys in the office.

Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George walked in, half asleep yet alarmed. Sophie and I went over to the lot of them.

George whispered in my ear, "Nik."

I was confused; he grabbed me and held me close. I could feel his heart beating fast. "Hey, everything's going to be okay," I said, soothingly. I knew that wouldn't help how George was feeling, but I said it anyway. I could feel his tenseness.

"Harry," Ginny said, "what's going on? Professor McGonagall said that you saw Dad hurt—"

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore before Harry could speak. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I'm sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

I turned to Dumbledore. "Are Sophie and I going, too?"

Dumbledore didn't answer immediately; but he didn't even have to. Harry and all the Weasley's looked at me, incredulous. "Is that even a question?" asked Fred.

I blushed. "Oh… right… I just figured… I mean, it's more of a… and I've never been to Sirius's… I just—"

Sophie jabbed me with her finger; I stopped rambling immediately and sighed. _'Thanks, Soph.'_

'_No prob, sis from another miss.'_

Dumbledore took the Portkey – a rusty, old, black kettle – and we all gathered round. On the count of three, we were in what was said to be the basement kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was a dim room, and there was a house elf glaring at us malevolently from the corner of the kitchen. Then I heard footsteps.

A tall man with long black hair and fathomless, grey eyes entered the room. He was somewhat unshaven, and still in his day clothes even though it was now the middle of the night.

"What's going on?" he said. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been injured, and badly—"

Sirius stopped talking, his gaze shifting over everyone, landing on me.

I tried to smile friendlily, as I had never had really gotten the chance to introduce myself to him; I had only met Sirius once – briefly – in my fourth year (Harry and crew's third year) at Hogwarts.

"_Who's that man?" I whispered to Hermione, who was walking with me to meet Harry and Professor Lupin at the bottom of the hill._

_There was a man with Harry and Professor Lupin, and he looked very ragged and dirty. He was definitely built... and he had curly, long black hair. His eyes, sullen and sunken from years of captivity, were grey and fathomless._

_Yet he caught my eye; and I caught his. Our stare lingered for a moment, before I could see some sort of emotion in his eyes. I couldn't really understand it – it was some sort of combination of remorse and… longing?_

"_Sirius Black," she whispered back, frantically. "It's a long story, but he's actually not guilty of what he's been accused of…"_

_Just as Hermione and I reached Harry, Professor Lupin, and Black at the bottom of the hill, we heard footsteps from behind. _

"_Snape," I whispered loud enough for everyone to hear._

_Sirius Black turned his head in my direction. Our eyes locked once more. For some reason I felt like I knew this guy… I could tell he wanted to say something. Just as I was about to introduce myself, Snape barged in._

"_Weasley's in the Hospital __Wing__ now, Black," Snape said. "Thanks to you."_

I snapped back to reality. So did Sirius.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, looking at Sirius questioningly; he wasn't the only one – we were all confused as to what had just happened. Then, as we entered the kitchen, Harry pulled Sirius aside to explain to him about how he dreamt Mr. Weasley was injured.

The Weasleys were furious at the fact that Sirius wouldn't let them go to the hospital to visit their father, as Mrs. Weasley didn't even know about this yet; Sirius feared this would "draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away," and added, furiously, "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"

After a little more of arguing, Fred and George sat down at the kitchen table with Ginny, and Sirius brought everyone Butterbeers.

I couldn't sit; I felt nauseous and was wandering around the kitchen. I was examining a piece of old china when I heard a voice from behind me.

"Fancy a Butterbeer?"

I turned around, startled, and found my way into a pair of deep grey eyes. Mustering all the breath I had left in me I said, "Thanks. I'm Nikki, by the way; I don't think I ever really got the chance to introduce myself."

I took the Butterbeer from his hand; Sirius seemed a little uneasy, but he looked at me, smiling. "No, it seems we always got interrupted. You probably already know, but for the record, I'm Sirius. And make yourself at home; if you can even call this place a home…"

I laughed at his disgusted expression. "Thanks. What do you have against this place, anyway?"

Just then, Fawkes came in with a letter from Mrs. Weasley. George opened it and read it, looking at Sirius and me, "_Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum."_

"Still alive…" George said slowly. "But that makes it sound…"

After that, all of us went upstairs to go to bed. (Not like we were all going to actually sleep that night, but everyone was too touchy to be around everyone else.) I turned down the hallway and headed up the stairs to the room assigned to Sophie, Hermione, Ginny, and I, but George stopped me while I was on the second step, our faces level.

"Hey," I said, taken aback, "what's going on—"

I stopped talking. We were inches apart.

"Nikki," George said, and I was aware of how open his brown eyes were, "sneak out with us—"

I put a finger on George's lips as I lost eye contact with him and instead saw a shadow in the background. Someone was listening in on our conversation.

George furrowed his eyebrows, confused. I pointed behind him and he turned around. Next thing I knew, I was thrown over George's shoulders and carried up the stairs. "George, put me down!" I whispered. "Maybe it was the house elf."

"That shadow was not the size of a house elf," he whispered back.

Fred, Harry, and Ron were waiting atop the staircase. Fred raised an eyebrow at the sight of George carrying me and me kicking George about. "Meeting," he said. "Our room."

'_Sophie?'_

'_Yeah?'_

'_Are you in our room?'_

'_Yeah, Hermione too… what are you up to?'_

'_I'll, um, be there at some point. Don't wait up.'_

'_O-kay…'_

I was really confused as to what was going on right now. Fred opened the door for all of us and George finally put me down once we were inside the room; Ginny was inside already.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Ginny said.

"_What_… what are you guys talking about?"

Fred and George were looking at me; Fred was more skeptical, George was just observing. "Well, what was up with you and Sophie – why were you two already in Dumbledore's office when we came in?"

"Sorry, guys, but I really can't say anything other than we had to meet with him. Why didn't you bring Sophie in if you feel this is so important?"

Fred frowned. "Because we thought you might actually tell us."

I sighed and looked around at everyone. "Guys, really, you don't know how much I am dying to tell you, but I really can't. At least not right now – I just found out about this, too. I'm sorry."

"Does it… does it have to do with me?" Harry asked, kind of nervous.

"No, of course not, Harry," I lied. "I'm outie. Goodnight, guys."

I looked at everyone once more before I left; I could tell they all knew there was more to what I knew. George gave me the puppy-dog-pout, but I just sighed and shook my head at him.

'_Everything alright?'_ Sophie asked.

'_How could you guess?!'_

'_I dunno. I just felt it. Like you were… uneasy.'_

'_Well, Dumbledore never ceases to astonish me with these powers. Listen, I'll be up soon, okay? I just need to do some thinking.'_

I was halfway down the staircase, on the way to the living room, when I bumped into something hard. "Sorry," I gasped.

I looked up. All I saw was a shadow of a face; gaunt, dark, and worried. There was a sliver of light making its way up to this face, illuminating its eyes… its fathomless, grey eyes.

Sirius looked at me, surprised. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Thanks, _mum_," I joked. "I just need some space from everyone right now. A room full with three other girls isn't exactly ideal for that."

Sirius laughed… it sounded nearly bark-like.

"Um, wait… where exactly is this living room?" I asked, smiling apologetically.

Sirius turned around and I followed him down another flight and a half of stairs. We were in the hallway, in between the kitchen and his family room – the kitchen on the left, the family room on the right. We made a right.

"Now, don't be too disturbed by the tapestry on the wall…"

We entered the room and Sirius lit one of the candles in the torch stand. I looked around.

I could feel the damp and dusty air in every breath I took. There were different relics and family heirlooms on the shelves in the corner of the room, and the couches seemed to have permanent indents in them where previous family members used to sit. My eyes wandered to the wall that Sirius was talking about.

"The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," I read aloud.

I looked at Sirius; he nodded grimly. "You see that little black spot? That's me. My mother blasted it off after I ran away…. Charming woman."

I looked at the tapestry some more. "And the Malfoys? And the Lestranges? And…"

"All the Purebloods. As you know, we're all related somehow. There," he pointed to a black spot that had said '_Andromeda_,' "that's Tonks's mother. She married a muggle, Ted Tonks, and was removed from the list. And you see Cedrella? She married Septimus Weasley and was also removed off of the list because, according to my parents, the Weasley's are 'blood traitors'."

"Whoa. I figured you were related to the Weasley's _some_how, but seeing it like this just makes it seem so much more… real."

Sirius laughed at me.

I skimmed my finger over all the burnt areas of the tapestry. "Your mum was some character, huh?"

Sirius grimaced but laughed it off. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I'm sure you'll meet her soon."

"What do you—"

All of a sudden, I heard voice coming from the hallway. It was pitchy and loud; _"Stains of dishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth—"_

Sirius ran out of the room and I followed him. He covered up the picture – what seemed to have been causing the noise – with a sheet and turned back to face me. "And now you've met her."

The realization dawned on me. "Whoa…"

"Sirius," I asked out of sheer curiosity, "what was it like? Growing up in a house like this?"

For me, I always thought the environment I grew up in shaped me, for better or for worse. My parents nearly never came home from work; I grew up with two babysitters, one during the day and one at night. I knew only of loneliness, and I felt disconnected from the world; I didn't feel like I was worth being cared for.

Sirius sighed and we walked back to sit down in the kitchen. "Christmases were all the same; mum and dad talking about how Purebloods were all the rage and no one else was worthy of breathing the same air. They talked of how being a Black made you – as they said it – 'practically royal.' I wanted to throw up every time I heard it. Eventually, when I was sixteen – which I'm guessing is right about your age – I moved in with James for a while."

I nodded and imagined what it would be like to go through that at my age. "How'd you know? That I was sixteen?"

He shrugged. "I figured."

I narrowed my eyes, a little confused and a little skeptical.

"I'm sorry, I guess that was a bit of a personal question," I said nonetheless. "I just met you, anyway."

He chuckled and rubbed his eyes. "Hey, don't worry about it. Now it's my turn, though."

"Okay… shoot."

"So, what _was_ it that Dumbledore called you and your friend in for?" he asked, somewhat childishly.

I gasped and crossed my arms over my chest. "Sirius Black! So it _was_ you eavesdropping!"

We laughed, and I continued, "Well, I can't really tell you much… but we were talking about why Dumbledore chose us two. You see, we live in this mini tower right off of the Gryffindor tower—"

"The flat?" he asked, keenly.

I paused for a moment. _Oh, he means the Pad._ "Yeah—how'd you know?!"

"Do I really look that old to you?" he asked, jokingly.

I laughed. "Well, no. Anyways, we were wondering _why_ he gave _us_ that pad. And it turns out we have some secret mission or something, but I don't really want to say just what."

"So you just found this out?" he asked. "You haven't done any secret-mission-stuff yet?"

I looked at him, puzzled. "No… not yet.

"You know something about this, Sirius." It was a statement; it wasn't a question.

Everyone – Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Sophie, Fred, and George – came down at that instant.

"I thought you lot were going to the bedrooms?" Sirius asked, turning away from me rather quickly.

The disgusted look everyone else gave Sirius answered the question; no one was going to be sleeping tonight.

It was about five in the morning when Mrs. Weasley came in.

She was very pale, but flashed us all a wan smiled when we all turned around to look at her. "He's going to be all right. He's sleeping. We can go in and see him later. Bill's with him now, he's going to take the morning off of work."

After we all heard the (somewhat) good news, Sirius, Harry, and Mrs. Weasley began to make breakfast. I overheard some of their conversation and found out that if it wasn't for Harry's dream, Mr. Weasley might not have been found for hours, at which point he would have already died from too much blood loss. I also learned that we would probably have to stay at Grimmuald Place for Christmas – which was in a couple of days – as Mr. Weasley will probably have to be hospitalized a little while longer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I heard footsteps. Voices. Yelling. A door slam.

I turned over in my bed and looked at the clock. It was five in the evening, and pretty much everyone but me was downstairs. I sighed, freshened up, and went to the kitchen to see what was going on.

As soon as I walked down the hallway, I heard Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, and Lupin talking. I stopped at the archway right before the kitchen and listened in. Apparently Snape had just come for a visit and told Harry that he was to give him Occlumency lessons starting next semester. Of course, neither Sirius nor Harry was excited to hear this bit of news.

"He's not James, Sirius. You can't be there with him all of the time; he has to learn to defend himself."

Sirius snorted. "Don't you think I know that, Molly? …But why should _Snivellus_ have to teach him that?"

I had to hold back a laugh. I felt someone come up from behind me; it was Tonks. She smiled at me impishly and shook her head.

"Tisk, tisk," she whispered. I grinned back at her and we continued listening in.

Lupin sighed. "Sirius, you have to let this go. Severus is a teacher at Hogwarts now, and he's here to _help_ Harry…"

* * *

Lupin and Tonks were going to drop us off at Hogwarts via Knight Bus; we were to be dropped off at Hogsmeade and then make our way up to the castle grounds.

"Here, take this," I heard Sirius whispering to Harry as we were all about to leave. He thrusted a package the size of a small book into Harry's hands.

"What is it?"

"A way of letting me know if Snape is giving you a hard time. No, don't open it here! I doubt Molly would approve — but I want you to use it if you need me, alright?"

We all said our goodbyes to Sirius and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and left the house.

"What a vacation, huh?" Sophie asked as we reached the bottom of the stoop.

I sighed and took one last look at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. There was snow all over the stoop and front porch. "Yeah."

"C'mon, you lot," Tonks, said. "We better get going."

Lupin stuck his wand out. Seconds later a triple-decker, deep purple bus with gold writing that read _The Knight Bus_ arrived on the spot.

"Hey, Harry, I think you dropped this—" I said, picking up a note; it read:  
_This is a two-way mirror; I've got the other. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use it when we were in separate detentions_.

Harry snatched it back from me quickly, looking at me. He then glanced back at his package and wouldn't take his eyes off of it.

"'ey, Ernie, look! It's 'Arry Pottah!" Stan Shunpike shouted.

Oh boy... This was going to be an interesting ride.


End file.
